Page 87 of Fatal Attraction

My head spun.

“That’s why Crow couldn’t really tell you anything when you and your partner showed up at Daggers. This whole operation is considered confidential and if Crow had told you what he knew, he’d be in prison. We all would.”

“Fuck.” I ran a frustrated hand down my face and vehemently shook my head. “I…I can’t believe this shit!”

“In Crow’s defense though, hedidgive you hints. He did everything he could to help you and well, if you didn’t listen, then that’s not on him. That’s on you, Bonecrusher.”

Toothpick was right. Crow did help us, but the problem was Gibbs and Hammett. If they’d given us the information we needed when Spikeand I had confronted them, then Percious Welch could’ve been arrested way before shit had ever escalated this far. Felix would still be alive, and Charlotte would’ve never been kidnapped.

It was evident now that my fight was no longer with Crow. Hell, it never was. It was with those two conniving sons of bitches.

Toothpick made to speak again and then froze, rushing to retrieve his phone. I never heard it ring over the bikes, so it must’ve been put on vibrate. “It’s Crow.” He put the device to his ear, nodding once before he hung up and faced me.

“Masks on,” he demanded, jerking his head hard to the left, where there was a set of headlights coming in hot. “We’re on. Crow said to shoot the back tires out.”

I plucked the mask out of my pocket and gently glided it over my head, lifting it up so it covered my mouth and nose. “How do you know that’s the right truck?”

Toothpick didn’t answer at first, opting to reach behind and under his jacket instead, revealing a gun. He checked the rounds before he cocked it. “You ask a lot of questions, Bonecrusher. No offense, but I’m frankly getting tired of answering them.”

It wasn’t the response I expected, but instead of arguing, I double checked my rounds, watching and waiting for the truck to slowly cruise on by. Right away I’d noticed a small blinking light emerging from underneath the truck as it passed. Toothpick hesitated another moment before he turned to me and said, “Let’s go!”

He hit the gas, zooming out onto the street with his gun ready. Following Toothpick’s example, I turned on the brights and as we veered closer, Toothpick shouted for me to aim for the back left tire while he handled the right.

I got in position, my aim undoubtedly on point.

But just before I could fire, the back of the truck lifted open. There were several armed men—five to be exact—glaring daggers at us.

Oh, fuck!

The men began firing as the words, “IT’S AN AMBUSH,” fled my throat, and, faster than I could blink, Toothpick was hit multiple times and had flipped backwards off his bike. My heart sank as I stared behind me and saw his large body rolling…and rolling…and rolling.

“TOOTHPICK!”

I killed the lights and swerved out of the way as the gunfire started up again, cursing like a fucking madman when I landed in the ditch. Lucky to evade getting shot, I worked fast to get the bike up and then popped a fast U-turn. Tears filled my eyes when I parked beside Toothpick’s body.

He was gone.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK!

With no other choice, I grabbed my phone and called Crow.

“It’s an ambush!” I yelled when he answered. “Toothpick is dead!”

“What the fuck happened!?”

“There are five men in the back of the truck! They were waiting for us!”

He let out a vicious growl before he hung up, and I swore heavily, glancing down at Toothpick’s body before I had no choice but to pop another U-turn, my chest heaving. I didn’t want to leave him like that but there was nothing I could do for him. He was gone. One way or another, I had to stop these bastards before they killed anyone else.

Half a mile later I heard more gunshots, so many that I killed the engine and parked the bike on the side of the road, keeping myself low as I swiftly dropped into the ditch and trailed along it, two guns drawn and ready.

Fuck, it was so much worse than I thought.

The target was parked in the middle of the road, and Crow and six of his men were behind it, guarding themselves from oncoming fire. Five bodies lay lifeless at their feet and as I grew closer, several hundred feet ahead of the truck was another crew.

The Ravens. It had to be them.

There were about seven in all, each armed and drawing closer. Since I was in the ditch, I dropped close to the ground and aimed one gun at the guy on the furthest end. His body hit the pavement when I pulled the trigger.

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